Thirst for you
by CatherineSommers
Summary: I could feel our breaths mixed with the proximity, chest to chest even if the space surrounding us was enough for us to pull away. He was forbidden territory, I tried to remember, my sister's best friend, my sister's boyfriend's brother. AU Anderberry.
1. Prologue

**AN: **So hi, this awesome person made this incredible story line and everybody in Tumblr was freaking out because it is just**_ awesome._**

Here is where you will see fireworks, on blaineandersons.)tumblr.)com/tagged/sibling%20au

**Sumary:**

I could feel our breaths mixing with the proximity, we were chest to chest even if the space surrounding our bodies was enough for us to pull away.

He was forbidden territory, I tried to remember myself, my sister's best friend, my sister's boyfriend's brother, the only guy for who I would make a fool, or be anything he wanted, the only person who made my heart beats so fast that should be illegal.

The one that now was inches from me and whose lips screamed at me to kissed them.

So I did.

**Thirst for you.**

By Catherine Sommers.

**Prologue:**

It wasn't that there weren't many kids on the block but, for some reason, none of them liked me. Even if my dads were lovely, caring and always babbling about how a beautiful daughter they had, neither neighbors nor their children were as warm.

Whenever I tried to talk with someone on the playground they would just laugh and call me names that I couldn't understand or just stared at me with those big eyes and, suddenly, they would cry and called for their moms.

My dads had explained me that most people didn't understand us, the way we lived or how we were formed as a family, that they had an idea of love that had a limit. When those words came out of my dad's mouth I replied, no hesitation in my voice:

"You had always told me that love has no limit."

The smile they shared at my words made me proud, but the conversation died with my sentence and thousands of questions were filling up in my mind.

It was February when I finally told them.

I had watched all of the kids got a friend which whom they would do every single treat they wanted, they would make sleep over's, share ice cream on the porch or share secrets under covers that simulated castle walls just with a lantern on.

I found myself wanting that. And what Rachel Berry wants, she gets it.

That is why that same morning I approached to the kitchen with all the weapons I could "I need a word with both of you" my voice confident while I took a seat in the tall chair they had for me so I could be at their same level at the table. My dad's looked at me, smiles in their faces as they parted their embrace and took a seat as well.

The environment had a bitter taste, like this would cost me more than a few right words or some tiny tears. I tried to remain serious as I spoke: "I want a brother."

The change was instant, their smiles no longer visible and their hands weren't laced anymore. I saw them watch each other and then, me. Hundreds of emotions in their eyes and thousand words hanging on their mouths, but they didn't say anything, they couldn't.

"I need a brother, or a sister. I'm all alone" I felt my eyes watering "I want a partner for my games, someone who would like me and not being afraid that I had some virus. It doesn't matter if I have to share my toys; I would be delighted with it! Because, what's the point in having a room full of fur animals, Barbies and lots of stuff if I can't show them to someone or used them with someone?" I saw daddy Lou bit his lip and shot a glance to daddy Michel but at the second he opened his mouth to speak I cut him again "It's not like when I said I wanted a fish and then Mr. Shinny Star died when I forgot to feed him, I'm six now, I know the responsibilities, and I also now that this brother or sister that I want isn't just a pet or something to play with. I want him or her, but mostly it is a need, someone who will hear me talk about everything and nothing and that will share with me things that will just be ours"

At the end of the little speech I felt three things going in slow motion.

First, the saltiness of my tears on my parted lips, then the embrace of daddy Lou while he whispered things into my ear that were softly but incomprehensible, and the sight of daddy Michel getting the phone and started talking so fast I could barely follow.

A few days later I was on the back of the car, singing along the songs on the radio. I didn't knew where were we going but it wasn't worth asking, they had said "It is a secret" and when it was a secret, it was a secret.

We had traveled what seems like days when the car finally stopped.

"Get out, Rach" daddy Michel said and held my door open.

I couldn't believe what I saw.

The view was full of children, all playing on the grand play yard on multiple games that seemed very used, with the colors of the painting long ago gone on several parts.

Both Lou and Michel took one of my hands; leading me inside the building I hadn't notice until now.

Grey walls were slightly decorated with several draws, trying to give a little bit of color to the house I immediately decided was too sad to live in.

Of course, if you compare a basement with your own stage, a room full of the things you like, paint in your favorite color, as the walls and corridors were filled with family portraits or art galleries works, everything with lack of shine and glitter seemed sad.

When we were approaching to what looked like an office a lady came out with a smile printed on her face. Michel released my hand and took a few steps to talk with the woman into whispers, even if I tried my hardest what they said would had only appeared to be a secret code only they could understood.

Lou was watching them closely too, as if trying just as me to know what was all that about, I was going to tell him that it was Mars language when the lady looked at me and smiled again, warmly.

"Rachel, right?"

I just nodded.

"Let me introduce you to your new brother."

My eyes went wide, I could feel my smile hurting my face and my heart racing in anticipation. The door of the office finally opened entirely and I saw him.

He was so little, even if his curly dark hair cheated on his height you could tell he was younger by looking at his eyes. Hazel honey eyes, like melted gold, that sine as much as his shy smile.

"Rachel, this is Blaine." She said pointing to him with her hand. "Blaine, this is Rachel."

I closed the gap between us in three large steps, my arms surrounding him and his body unable to move at the shock of sudden affection. When we were inches apart and I saw into his eyes again I knew something time would prove.

Blaine was going to be everything I needed and I was going to be everything he wanted.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes, please tell me.

Also, this is just the prologue, you will see why is so short no many chapters after.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: **I could just go on and on about why it took me so long to upload, but, why would I ruin your day?

Also, you know English is not my native language so if you can check it and review me or send me a PM with the mistakes I would be glad on learning; did you notice that there are like 3 pages of Anderberry!Sibilings? Do you think I should change the Summary for people to know that this is one of those fics? I feel a little proud, btw, taking in mind that I went from the past with the story instead of just going to the point of where they are on Rachel's sleep over.

I don't like this chapter very much, a lot of writers-block there and, sincerely, Google translate didn't help much when I wanted to put a phrase and it translated it wrong. I may no be perfect at English, but I'm better than that translator.

Sin más preambulos:

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

By Catherine Sommers

I took a deep breath before stepping in, my hand laced with Rachel's.

As soon as you entered there was a door which lead you to a cupboard under the stairs, where as I saw, they left their coats, and several closed boxes.

"You have to take off your shoes" Rachel said while stripping hers off, so as the men coming with us.

I let them lay next to her own pair and took her hand when she offered it to me, encouraging me by force to enter entirely to the residence.

The first thing I noticed was the portraits. There were everywhere, pictures of the men which names I recognized as Lou and Michel; and Rachel.

"There are every other meter" Lou told me when he found me looking at them, staring at them.

"Don't worry," Michel said, his warm smile giving him an air of confidence and trust "we are going to make a new one next week" he pointed a spot in the living room, which occupied a large size "and you will be in that one, and every other we make."

Those words filled a space I wasn't aware was empty.

The second day had past as quickly as it came, fresh in my memory as the first time going to the mall. Trying on clothes that actually fitted my body, and listening to the approval of several people; on the other side of the curtain I could hear the ladies from the store complimenting Lou for giving me my looks. I frowned, not understanding what that meant.

It wasn't until the third day when Rachel dragged me out of bed in the middle of the morning.

"We are having a tour" she simply said.

She stopped in front of the door near the staircase and looked at me in the eye, the most serious expression I had seen on her usually over-excited grimace.

"Blaine Berry, you are about to discover a world that adults don't want you to see but _I_, as your sister, will" the tone of her voice was solemn, her hand extended on my direction in form of a fist, her little finger emerging seconds later.

I had seen kids doing it, expecting other kids to give their own little finger and then they would say a few words to each other in complete secrecy; but I had never had the chance to experiment it myself to know about what to say, or even if I was the one who had to talk.

Rachel didn't mover her hand until I hesitantly did what she wanted, and then she spoke.

"You promise on the little finger that you won't tell what you see" Rachel waited a little bit, maybe expecting some answer, I nodded enthusiastically. "This will be our fist secret, then" she said, smiling at me, warm feelings filling my chest.

Rachel turned the doorknob and the door of the room opened slowly, making a slight noise. Lights were off and neither of us thought of turned them on, darkness was more than welcome to surrender our adventure.

She first showed me the bed, saying that any time she had been there the sheets were always green, despite the date or the occasion; matching with the pillow covers in a creamy white, letter on silver by the sides.

The rug was soft under my bare feet, and the sweet smell was as welcoming as rare. Rachel took my hand once again and made me follow her to the drawers, putting a finger on her lips to prevent me from doing any noise, even if there wasn't anybody to hear it.

The last drawer opened before us and lots of books appeared on our sight, I frowned, looking at the bookshelf across the room, but when I was going to ask Rachel took one of them and showed me why.

"It's really weird" I said while changing pages "this pictures are not fun at all" she shook her head and kept watching the images, most of the characters on the story lack of clothes and it made me thing that maybe it was too hot there for using them.

"Not all books make sense" her voice was a whisper, aware of the possibility of someone walking in on us.

When we finished the book (without understanding a single thing about it) we stayed sited, the murmur of the cars outside filling the silence of the conversation I was trying to formulate.

The question I made myself every night for three days was out of my mouth before I could even think of it: "Where is your mom?"

I saw something in her eyes that I didn't expect; I thought she was going to tell me she was on a trip, or that she worked late or even something worst. Something I listened so many times at the old place I was forced to call home, but as soon as it came the dim sparkle in her eyes disappeared.

Rachel took the book from my hands and, after putting it on the drawer; she went to the bookshelf and grabbed something that shined in the darkness.

"I never met her" she admitted, her voice raising enough for me to hear it across the room. ", but I don't care either, Lou and Michel are my dad's, and I love them and I know they love me too" she left the framed photo on the shelf, walking towards me, a smile building in her face while she opened another drawer "and they love you, too"

* * *

><p><em>November, 2001<em>

It was raining when we left the house.

The silence in the car numbed my nerves while the images of the rushed morning succumb into my head.

_I was barely aware of the soft sound of water running until it was broke by the telephone ringing. It woke me up but the fatigue from the day before was enough reason for me to stay in bed; I tried to fall into the unconsciousness of my dreams when the noise of footsteps running upstairs and a whispering of voices next door kept me awake for a few more seconds. My eyes felled closed, not even trying to figure out what were they talking about, maybe her dance lessons had been cancelled or something…_

"_Blaine?" a soft yet strong voice called my name, "Blaine" a hand shook my shoulder, asking me to stop dreaming and surrender to reality. _

"_The rabbit will escape" I mumbled to the voice, "he is in a hurry"_

"_Blaine, you are not Alice in Wonderland." There was a hint of laughter in the voice. "Come on, buddy, you have to wake up" I frowned into the pillow, trying not to pay attention to the order. "Get up and get dressed. We have to go in a couple of minutes" and then the weight that was unnoticed on my bed left, and the lights were turned on before the door snapped shut._

_I growled into the fabric of the pillow cover, defeated to the orders of Lou's voice. I putted on the first thing on my top drawer, skipping socks, as always._

_When I was on the way downstairs I could hear Michel's voice, still whispering. Something like «You have to be there for him» and a faded «because she won't be able anymore»_

Rachel's eyes were a little red and, unusually her voice was inside her throat instead of talking animatedly or just singing the compass from the radio, although it wasn't turned on.

The travel wasn't long, but the tension was still there when the car parked and, for the look of it, my sister seem to want to just jump off the car and run to wherever we were, but the locks and the pouring rain forbidden her wishes.

"Dad we have —I have to-"she attempt to say, but the words didn't want to left her mouth. Her voice was soft, as if it was unwilling to be heard as she bit her lower lip, pleading with her eyes on the rearview mirror. In seconds Lou was out her door with an umbrella.

"What is going on?" I finally asked, Michel rotate in the driver seat to watch me, his eyes looked tired and as red as Rachel's.

"You know Kurt?" my head nod without hesitation, why would he ask such a thing, knowing that I knew the boy and had attended his birthday a few months ago? "Well, you see…" he took a deep breath through his nose. I could almost listen the shiver of his teeth inside his closed mouth. Wasn't anybody talking today? "Kurt is..—his mom was sick. And yesterday night she, uh" he muttered something under his breath before continuing "Kurt's mom won't be with him any longer, Blaine. She passed out" if I hadn't been listening closely I wouldn't have heard the last words because of the rain; his voice was shaky and every few seconds he would gulp or close his eyes, looking for the exact words for me to understand.

But I didn't.

Not until we were out the car and inside the crowded building, I recognized the man in the far chair, looking into the nothing on the floor, people were talking to him but his eyes were stuck in a spot with nothing particularly interesting; hands were supported on his shoulders but he did nothing to respond the gesture.

There were other people, their faces long and their clothes monotonous, everything was as black as night and the sensation that breathe on the environment made me remember of two years ago, on the orphanage.

I spotted Lou at the same time as Michel did, he give me a pat on the shoulder and lead me to the opposite direction, I was going to ask when Rachel enter on my view radio and, at the sight I could _fell_ the lump forming inside my throat.

My sister's arms were embracing the boy who was just half-sited on his seat and half-curled against her chest; his jaw was trembling, his teeth were pressed hard to contain the sobs that were fighting to get out. I couldn't see his eyes, which I remembered were as blue as the pictures of the ocean I had seen at school, blue like the sky when there weren't any clouds and the sun could lighter the color, as blue as his mother's eyes; but I knew he was crying for the way his back was shivering and the way his hands were closed in fists on Rachel's dark-blue dress.

She was looking into nowhere, her lips moving with whispering words coming out of them.

"It's going to be okay" she said, and I saw fear in her eyes, insecure of the promise she made through shaky breaths, it was the first time Rachel didn't sound as confident as she appeared to be.

Michel knee in front of me "You stay with them for a bit, buddy, I'm going to see if Kurt's dad needs something, yes?" I was just able to nod in understanding.

Dad disappeared in the crow of people who seem more in shock that sad, incapable of articulate words or just let their emotions flow as the boy holding to Rachel was.

I took a step closer and put my hand on his shoulder, moving my thumb but no pronouncing a word; I don't know how much time we remain like that but I did know that the countless people who entered the building came running to us in the second they spotted our seats.

The things they said sounded like a broken record after listening to it so many times; «she was a great women» some said, «Poor kid, he lost his mom» were the following things all say, when they thought we weren't able to listen.

The anger of their ignorance made a blur most of the things that happened, but the last thing I remembered was being shaken a bit by Rachel who was standing two feet away from me, telling me it was time to go home but as soon as I moved to follow her there was a light weight on top of me.

Kurt was asleep on my chest, marks of dry tears adorning his pale cheeks, his arms rounding me in a thigh hug, as if his life was depending on me; that night Rachel, Kurt and I shared my parent's bed but neither my sister nor I were able to sleep much for the continuing sobs coming from the third boy, when his nightmares were too powerful for him to contain.

The radiant sun coming through the window greeted us before we left to the graveyard.

I remember holding his hand when his mother's coffin was lowered to the ground.

* * *

><p><em>May, 2008<em>

It was supposed to be pitch-black, like a few seconds ago.

Bright lights were burning my eyes through my closed eyelids; reason enough for them to keep closed. The feeling clearly unwelcomed as I couldn't understand what was happening. I fell the metallic taste of blood forming inside my mouth, covered as my nose with an annoying _thing_ that felt like plastic; I tried to swallow, eager to remove the bitter taste, but all I got was to produce a sharp pain as if there was something forbidding the air into my lungs.

I tried to place my hand on my neck, taking away what was there, but neither of my arms responded to my orders; I tried to speak, but whatever covering my face prevented me to do it.

There were voices, rushed voices coming like screams, yelling things that I could barely understand. Some sounded like my name and others were questions that, I knew, I wouldn't be able to answer.

I tried to remember, tried to place the pieces in the giant puzzle I was being part of, but the scenes were mixed inside my head and I couldn't get anything before the unconsciousness took possession of my body.

Was I dying? 'Cause when I thought there was a heaven it certainly didn't look like that.

"No, no, he is still asleep" I frowned.

There was this _someone_ interrupting my dreams, even in the soft murmur of the voice I could listened to it perfectly, wishing for the person to go away and let me fall into other world, surrendering to the tiredness even if I felt that my eyes had been closed for long.

This time the unplaced voice didn't go away, instead I could hear it growing louder as it approached to me, wherever I was.

And then, the voice was as familiar as always when a song with words which were in the tip of my tongue fight to follow her lead. Rachel was singing to me, one of those silly songs she had taught me when arriving from her first school day. I could fell her soft hand taking mine, rubbing my palm and still singing softly, as if she was just saying it into my ear.

"I want you to wake up, Blainey" she said once the song was over, "I miss you so much" the crack in her voice made me twist; how could she miss me, if I was right there? It wasn't like I had been sleeping for…— damn.

"_Fag!" were the yells I could hear not far away. I saw Ian through the corner of my eye, he was rigid and the way he swallowed was loud enough for me to hear; he was shivering, nervous, trying once again to dial his father's number on his telephone. _

_We haven't seen them on the dance but, for the hiccup tone they used it was certain that they were off for one of the bars in the area._

_With their minds sober those guys were scary, and I didn't want to stay to see how would they be once their systems were filled with alcohol._

"_We have to get out of here" it was just a mumble, but Ian caught my words quick and head to the opposite direction from the jocks._

_It would have been a good idea, if they haven't run after us, screaming insults while tossing us around. Ian voice broke when the first fist was clenched into his face, blood flying to the floor, where he lied, afraid of making any movement. And then, it was my turn._

_A __knee __that __came __out __of __nowhere __was __fixed __into __my __stomach, __making __my __legs __sink __into __the __ground, __the __second __punch __didn__'__t __wait __long __before __I __could __fell __my __vision __blur __for __a __few __seconds, __been __able __to __watch __how __the__… __the__… _bastards _were __ripping __Ian__'__s __clothes, __kicking __his __uncover __stomach, __and __I __could __presence __his __look __of __terror __before __my __face __was __smacked __against __the __asphalt._

"_Blaine!" he screamed, but his voice was to high-pitched taking in mind the lack of air his lumps must needed. _

"_He is moving, oh dear god, he is moving! Please!" was again, but if the jocks wouldn't want me to move they wouldn't have plead._

That was when my eyes snapped open and Rachel's teary ones were sparkling, it was a view of seconds, before strangers taking her out and filling my body with cables and tossing questions that sounded familiar for some reason.

Hours later my sister was clenched into my chest, telling me so many things that I could place just a little part of them. «I love you's» were followed by «I thought you weren't waking up» and some «I missed you's» into tears that fell down her cheeks and ended up on my hospital clothes.

Our dads were there, looking at us with a relieved smile on their faces, also telling me a bunch of things that I had never heard them say. Things that meant so much and that made me cry along with Rachel.

I stretched her in my arms and let myself cry to sleep before waking hours later, in the same position, with my parents into a passionate argue near us, yet not loud, for let us rest.

"He is no going back, Michel" Lou said, his fist clenched furiously.

"I know he is not going back" he assured him, "we have to think where are we going to send him" he bit his lips and just then I noticed the laptop on his lap. "He has to be safe" were the last words that I listened before the drugs in my system give me another round of slumber.

But even if it promised a dreamless night I couldn't take Ian's terrified gaze out of my mind.

* * *

><p><em>December, 2008<em>

"I'm home!" I screamed at the front door "Warbler practice was over sooner than I expected" my feet moved to place me into the living room, the big image of six-year-old Rachel on Lou's arms and a five-(and a half)-year-old-me sitting on Michel's lap rest on the center of the room, giving a feeling of warmness with the decorated —pink— tree next to the Hanukah candles.

It gave me a smile before walking to kitchen, just to found that no one was there. Maybe they had gone to the supermarket and were on they way back, after all I wasn't supposed to be home this early. Just the thought of having the house for me, at least for a couple of hours, made me wish my parents were out longer: loud music, full control of the TV, computer and refrigerator... yes, I would like that.

Whatsoever, when I was pouring myself a glass of milk I knew I wasn't alone. The noise from upstairs was now loud and it seemed to be produced by someone who was totally annoyed.

I run upstairs to see what was happening, completely lost in laugher when Rachel stood outside of her door, picking the several things that had felled to the floor.

"What are you laughing at?" anger mixed with surprised was the first thing that I noticed. I frowned looking at her again, without even a tiny smile on my face. Rachel didn't have anything in her arms (or spilt on the carpet) that was liquid or blue and, downstairs, I haven't seen anything shed on the floor. "Aren't you supposed to be at school?" She asked next.

"What happened to you?" I reply, ignoring both of her questions.

"Slushie" was her only response before taking the remaining thing on the floor and shutting the door closed behind her in the bathroom.

"Slushie?" I asked out loud, "Aren't you suppose to _drink_ it?" Rachel voice was singing, but not answering.

Maybe at night, when we were having some of those marathon movies we always made when I came home she would tell me about what was doing the ice-cold drink all over her face.

Hours later, after a split half-vegan half-meat dinner where we four talked about our days, and planning our events for the weeks I was going to remain in the house, our parents excused themselves for the long day at work both had had and wished us sweet dreams with kisses dancing on the top of our foreheads.

With a bowl of popcorn both Rachel and I sat in the couch, _Dreamgirls_ playing on screen.

Halfway through the movie, after Rachel's favorite song, I dare asking "What happen today?"

"Thought you paid more attention at our dinner conversations, Blainers."

"You know what am I talking about, Rach."

Her eyes disconnected from the TV to focus on me, as if looking for something that tells her not to tell me what was going on.

"I got slushied" she said.

"You told me that earlier, but I didn't get it" the reply came out gently, my fingers stroking her hair and pulling her even closer.

"There is this _Neanderthal _at school" Rachel talk into my chest "he and almost the rest of the football team throw slushies to us everyday. Making us feel like it doesn't matter if we won Sectionals of Regional's, we are still losers." My eyebrows almost touched with her words, they throw slushies to _girls_? No, not even that, they just did it? "And it isn't like school is going to do something. Because, and I quote, Slushies are not signed as a weapon for harassment" she made air quotes and change her voice into a funny accent.

"Maybe I should go by for your school, give a look" our embrace got harder "you know, so they know they can't mess up with my little sister."

She was laughing before telling me that she was still a year older than me.

"Anyway, I should go" the heat on my cheeks was noticeable "I don't want anything to happen to you" I was very aware of the blush adorning my face, but Rachel didn't laugh at me or joke about it, like she always did.

She just looked into my eyes again, still hugging me and that confident voice that I could place anywhere sounded a little bit cracked when she spoke: "And I don't want anything happening to you either."

* * *

><p><em>March, 2010<em>

"Blaine, is that you?" Lou's voice came form the garage.

"Yes, dad" I replied, heading towards him, taking in sight as Michel was equally there.

"Hey there, handsome." Was the first thing both say when I was fully in their view "Oh, Lou, our kid is more than appealing without that blazer on"

"But he looks so dapper in it. And also, it's cute."

"Of course he is cute; he is our child, after all."

"And he has our super attractive genes"

"I'm standing here" the cheeky smile on my face almost hurting as they hugged me, "and, you both love the blazer."

"Yes, that's why we sent you to Dalton, Blainers."

There was a ghost of silence between the three of us, remembering the Sadie H's dance without wanting it. The memory was livid in our memories, as the scars under my shirt that still didn't disappeared. "Where is Rach?" was the first thing that came into my mind.

"She is in her room," Lou started saying and I excused myself before listening the rest of what was he talking about. Whatever it was, my mind would drive me back into the past and that was something I wasn't eager to do.

My suitcase flew onto my bed and before even watch if it had landed correctly I opened the door next to mine without asking.

"I know you missed me!" I screamed at the room and as soon I opened my eyes the sight made me blush.

There, on top of the bed, was that girl that always appeared on Rachel's Facebook photos, with lots of magazines surrounding her, in the middle of a mouthful of ice cream; Rachel herself was standing near the closed window, shock filling her eyes, just in lingerie that I (much to my regret) noticed was bright red and a little loose in his not-so-curved body.

But what caught my eye were the long naked legs of a boy. A boy who was standing next to the mirror, just wearing a shirt that was too many sizes bigger than him and covered everything to his knees, except for his right shoulder, where the shirt was sliding down; a shirt that I knew from somewhere but yet couldn't place; and just god knew if he was wearing anything _under_ that shirt.

"Blaine…" I move my head to watch my sister, using the curtains as protection for the body I had seen thousands of times before, the next thing she could say was a mumble, words that were unintelligible and made me took a step closer, just to listen her voice clearer: "Get out!" was what she demanded.

The door snap shut before my face and the shock was now planted on me. I could almost hear my heart beating, faster and faster.

Thousand of questions were forming in my head, why did she throw me out? Why would she cover herself, if she had nothing to hide? Why would she be in red _lingerie_ with a _boy_ in her room? How our parents did support that kind of behavior?

The questions were brushed away when I entered my room and watched it for the first time in two months.

Immediately I recognized from where was the shirt the guy in Rachel's room was wearing.

It was _mine_.

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><p><em>January 3rd, Present.<em>

Without even noticing, it _began._


	3. Chapter 2

**AN:** So I was waiting for my beta but I'm in the middle of chapter three that is longer than this one because I was feeling guilty because of it's short participation as a filler.

So, a lot of thanks to the readers, the reviewers and the over 100 people who add this story as favorites and has it on alerts. And also, thank you very much to my beta: Kurtina Hummel.

I'm fixing the other chapters as soon as I wake up... today. lol I should be sleeping.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Dalton Academy was known as a synonym of excellence.

All the teams from the spot section were the best in the area, and Dalton's hallways were filled with golden trophies and photos of the crew who had won those games.

Regarding to academic matters the school count with four language classes apart from English and the silver medal of last year's Math Contest was proudly hanging on the Advance Math classroom. The science lab was used once in a while by the police department, using the advanced tools (that someone's dad had donated to the installations) to process investigation tracks.

The price was surely high, but it was worth it taking in consideration the classes and challenges you lived day-by-day; the option to board and, for course, the zero bullying tolerance policy.

Those were the main reasons for boys entering the school.

But, Dalton was also known for the Dalton Academy Warblers.

The sound of music died and claps mixing with screams of joy filled the room in seconds. Yes, we were _rock stars. _The whole school was there, making compliments about our performance, asking for another round of Warbler Sound, as they called it.

Maybe the football team along with the lacrosse team had plenty applications for new members, but the Warblers had as much, indeed, more than the ones both teams gathered together.

"Hey big boy!" was the first thing I was able to hear before being embrace in a tight hug "well, I don't know about the big" Jeff let go of me with a friendly path on my back.

"We are the same height!" I screamed at him, fixing my hair "You know, this doesn't remain tamed if you touch it"

"Sorry, dude. I haven't realized that I hurt your feelings" he said, faking regret.

"Jeff, stop mocking on Blaine" Nick walked towards us; waving goodbye to the people he had been talking to. I was about to repeat his words when his voice interrupted my speech "You know it's my turn to do it" and then again, my hair was troubled with a tender yet playful gesture.

"I hate you both"

Nick made a face of disbelief before Jeff grabbed him by the waist, pulling him into a hug, their faces inches apart. I could swear I saw his breath stop. Their eyes met and only they knew what that glance meant for them to blush slightly; their noses were touching, the eagerness for the kiss they haven't shared filling the environment.

I had to look away, convincing myself I was trying to give them some privacy, even if I was still less than a meter from them. Truth be told, I was logging for what they had, and just looking at two of my best friends made me green-jealous. I wanted to feel the rush of adrenaline when watching into my significant other's eyes, to have it in my arms as if the most precious and delicate thing in the world. I wanted the blush on its cheeks for the stolen kisses in public and the soft sound of its embarrassed yelps whenever we went farther than usual.

Yes, I needed a boyfriend.

And watching at Nick and Jeff almost raping their mouth in front of me was enough for me to want to ran away and find one. So, after quick hugs and a wave I said goodbye to my fellow Warblers and exited to the parking lot.

Of course, as I was heading Lima I could saw neither the car parking in front of Dalton Academy nor the boy stepping out of it, a playful smirk on his face. Neither would I know about the future problems he was going to provoke.

Lima and Westerville were two hours distance, two hours in which the only company I got was music as loud as the speakers were able to give me and my thoughts that occasionally pop open with some of the lyrics on the radio.

There were little things to wonder about, I was a good student, a popular kid as the lead of the choir group everybody wanted to join, I had a loving family who paid my tuition in a school that didn't approve bullying and I was able to be exactly who I was while walking down the hallways. There was almost nothing to think about, more than the things I would do at home for two weeks, without the company of my friends.

Berry's residence had that effect on me. The warmness I could feel with just one foot inside and the now familiar smells I breathed as the most likeable perfume. I took of my coat and left it aside, looking confederate to the door that, years before, was used to that purpose.

Obviously, with Lou giving me the Harry Potter saga as a birthday present I wasn't going to let that cupboard occupied by coats.

Behind that door was a whole new world for me, one I haven't entered in ages.

The sound of music coming from upstairs gave me a clue that Rachel was either having a party or practicing solos, or just listening to some Broadway musical really, really loud. I walked to the kitchen fighting the possibilities of my sister's actions in the privacy of her room when I saw an envelope; the elegant, unknown, letter read my name.

It wasn't closed so I just took out the paper inside, finding Michel's scrawls.

The note was short and precise, giving indication of things I knew beforehand. I made my way until the portrait on the living room, moving it a little bit for taking another envelope from behind, I didn't even bothered open that one as I climbed the stairs, waiting to secure it on my room.

I sighed loudly, it was clear that, once again, I was going to be the responsible adult in the house, and even if Rachel would always emphasize her being the older one, both of us knew I was the one taking charge of most of the things when our parents were out of town.

Like now.

She had not longer being in charge after the unauthorized party she had made a year ago (where I wasn't invited, by the way), where half of the liquor of my dad's reserve was down on the toilets and on Rachel's face.

Even if that was absolutely gross, I would have paid to see that.

My backpack was settled on the chair on my right, my laptop lighting up and ready to use, while the curtains were wide open, giving me a view of nothing else than the house in the front. Ohio wasn't that great but at least my window wasn't against a brick wall.

I took off my uniform, leaving the blazer on the back of the chair in front of the computer and throwing the pants and the shirt somewhere only I would find it two week later, late for school because it wouldn't get dry on time.

Unsure on what I was going to do I started crossing my options in my head: Reading a book was out of question with the sound coming from next door, maybe liking loud music was a family thing.

Staying in my underwear, checking my Facebook and e-mails; play video-games or go down stairs again to watch TV, sounded appealing, until the music went a little down and a voice that wasn't Rachel's trespassed the thin walls to my room.

I could recognize that voice everywhere, and I wasn't sure to know why.

At the exact same second the voice died down and cheers began to be herd I throw on the first clean shirt I found on my closet and some sweatpants that must be new for the loose they were. Lou always had that thing on buying me clothes without me proving them on, assuring me that he knew my size.

The knock remained on my knuckles before opening the door wide open, last time I had the view was weirder than the one I was watching.

"Hey Rachel" I greeted; my sister looked up from where she was doing _something_ to Mercedes' hair "how come that I'm never invited to your parties?"

Oh, god. They were listening to Roxy music, the beat made me move without even noticing it, still waiting for an answer as I wonder in the room —and, there he was.

"Oh, hey Kurt" _sound casual,_ a voice whispered in my head "I didn't know you were here"

I saw how Mercedes and Rachel shared a glance towards me as I climbed the bed, just inches apart from him.

"Hi Blaine," he said moments later, a blush rushing to his cheeks as he swallowed some water to down the pizza he was eating before I talked "how was your trip?"

"You know, the usual. Two hours without nothing to do, a sister whose phone never answer my calls and some music that made no sense on a suspicious radio station" If I was aware of my eyes traveling from his eyes glass blue eyes to his pink swallowed lips, I didn't notice, and whatever he was going to say died in his throat as Rachel's voice made presence.

"As much as we love you here, Blainers, this is a girl-only-meeting" she said, her hands still occupied brushing Mercedes long hair.

"Oh, yeah?" I could perfectly feel the smirk forming on my lips.

"Yes" se said, giving it little importance while taking some headbands.

"Alright then" I stood up, "someone's in a bad mood, I get it" but before she could retort I was talking again "as you are taking advantage of our dad's going making this girl's only, I will make a boy's only" and with that the other three people in the room were practically shocked when I pulled Kurt out of the bed and shoot the door of Rachel's room behind us.

After the first scream out of shock I started running, leading us both to a hiding place that wasn't my bedroom, it would be too easy.

A thousand questions were forming in my head, why were we running downstairs? Why had I kidnapped Kurt from the sleepover? What was he saying? Was it possible that he liked the idea of antics, even if he didn't know what to expect from it? Was my heart racing speed because of me running or was it because I felt my hand burning more than my legs? Was it coincidence that the same hand that was on fire was the one tangled with Kurt's?

The door opened and he was pulled inside with me following close behind, the lights were off and soon the click of the lock was even louder than our faltering breaths. Last time I was there it was much bigger, but now the space between us was limited, scarce, and making us remain stand, our hands on the other's mouth, trying to make as little noise as possible.

I smiled against his hand and felt his lips curved against mine.


	4. Chapter 3

I'm so very sorry for the late upload but it is not enterely my fault, till two days ago FanFiction didn't let me get inside my account. Everytime I tried to enter it go to error.

This is chapter 3 for those who will be awesome and forgive me for being so incredibly late, if I can I will post chapter four, which is long yeeey, as soon as posible.

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Kurt's back was pressed against the wall near the small door, his hands were laying at his sides, knowing nothing better to do as both of my arms finished the prison my body was making to his own. Yeah. The cupboard was _that_ small.

We listened as Rachel's steps came towards the door and we both held our breaths as the handle shacked violently, being rotated from the outside. She gave up a few seconds later, realizing that the door was actually closed, and I almost could heard her saying something about corrupting her best friend under her breath, but Rachel was already far enough to give my ears the credit of listening properly; even if I perfectly knew that that was exactly what she was speaking on her anger.

I stayed still, waiting for a her to comeback, but when I realized she wasn't going to do so I let out the air in my lungs, letting myself inhale again, realizing that the air inside the cupboard was perfumed with a colony that wasn't my own.

And then, with a simple move of my head, the closeness Kurt and I were wrapped in hit me: Our noses were almost touching, as our breaths mixed with the proximity, our legs were intertwined, and his chest was slightly pressed against mine, under the thin fabric of his dark-blue pajamas and the cotton from my shirt. The warmth coming from between us was suffocating, and either way neither spoke a word in protest.

Kurt was just staring at me, with those big light blue eyes and green touches in the iris, announcing the change of the it's color any time soon, inspecting any sudden movement or just waiting for me to back off and leave him a little space.

I didn't.

We held each other's gaze for what seemed like hours, as if memorizing our eyes would be helpful on something or if it was relevant to the situation we were. Although nothing in the situation was.

In a few minutes, or seconds (or hours) the noises from upstairs died down. No Mercedes calling on Rachel to stop walking in circles while swearing, claiming making her dizzy with her walk, neither the loud music that could trespass the walls with facility.

The only sound surrounding us was the calm inhale of our breathings and every other car from the street.

Without noticing I leaned over Kurt, taking a bit more of the reduced space we were confined, even if the one who had more space at his back was me.

But then, I made a stupid, oh so stupid, mistake: my eyes fell from his gaze to his mouth. It had been just a second, but it had been enough for him to put his hand on my chest and made me move backwards a little bit.

The warmth of his body provoked a craving feeling.

"I should go" he said, clearing his throat after, his voice sounding rough for the lack of use. He didn't make an attempt to leave and I frowned at the same time I smiled. Kurt chuckled, surely because of the stupid grimace on my face, and bent down my arm to free himself at last. Oh, _right_.

"Coming?" he said, not louder than a whisper, which made the click of the door unlocking fill the room as the noisiest sound in the world. I mumbled something like «in a minute», which, apparently, was enough for him to smile and get out.

I didn't notice I was on the same position until I let my body fell to the wall Kurt's body had been pressed to. A bit of light entering from the little space where the door was now open.

I put my arm under my eyes as the air seemed like something solid, the realization of the acts drowning on me.

What the hell had just happened?

* * *

><p>I saw something sparkling in the dim light from the living room; sighing I took the silver necklace from under the door, inspecting its damage. It was totally broken.<p>

Maybe I shouldn't have ripped it off, but the adrenaline running through my body didn't think about breaking the piece of jewelry once the idea of hiding in the cupboard popped inside my head.

When I finally got out I didn't feel like going to my room, the music now louder than before, followed by screams that sounded way too high to consider it singing.

Instead, I decided to prepare myself something to eat, because even if I had been pressed (if I had pressed, in this case) against a wall by another man, my stomach wasn't going to take that as food.

There were tons of things to satisfy my hunger; taking in consideration that neither Leroy nor Hiram would think we should spend the money they left us for grocery but for emergencies. I took cold chicken and put it onto a plate, then in the microwave; not feeling like preparing something fancy just for one.

The clock read five minutes, five minutes that I used for pouring me a glass of soda, grave a knife and fork and think about Kurt Hummel.

There were just five minutes, but they seem eternal.

I thought of that first time he came over as Rachel's play date, twelve years from now; my sister wouldn't let me play with them, calling me a baby for adult games, and the second time in which they were the ones asking me to play, I should have known that I was going to play the baby of their family.

I thought of the time Kurt's dad would leave him with us, in order to go to the hospital to see Elizabeth, ten years earlier it didn't make any sense to either of us. Burt visiting his wife as Kurt was forbidden to see his mom. I would found out later that those were the days she wasn't on her level and wouldn't recognize her own son, even if she fought the medication and the sickness to do it.

I thought of the funeral and how Kurt let himself cry on my chest after the comfort on Rachel's would disappear as she went to the bathroom, I remembered how he was shaking and sobbing and how I held my hand towards him, without saying a word and letting him hug me as my arms surrounded his body seconds after.

I thought of the time he went to the hospital after the… dance, how he had took my hand in his and smiled at me, there were words on that memory but that moment had been dark enough to block it out.

The timing alarm woke me from my dream as I took the chicken and ate in automatic mode. I couldn't think straight, all of the memories where he appeared replaying on my head like a new, contagious, song, there weren't that many but the idea of creating more opportunities as the one in the cupboard scared me.

Why was I thinking that way?

* * *

><p>There were <em>giggles<em>, and shushed noises. I frowned at the interruption of a dream I couldn't quite remember, the sounds being too distracting and the position I was laying too uncomfortable.

"Oh, dear god, it _can't_ be" an unfamiliar voice prayed a little louder. I felt a hand on my shoulder, cold against my skin, shaking me and asking for me to wake up.

"No, I have to" a yawn interrupted "save China" came out in a mumble, and the laughter after my words was enough for me to brush the sleepy state I was.

Three people were laughing out loud, surrounding the couch where I was sleeping, the last thing in my brain was the theme song of Mulan as the tiredness and dreams made me close my eyes for a second.

"Berry, your little bro' is adorable" Mercedes voice sounded again between giggles.

"Blaine, you know I love you, but my friends don't have the habit of waking up and found a guy in boxers on the couch"

And that was what took away every ounce of tiredness in my system. I sat, covering my bare chest with my arms as I looked to the people in the room. It was hot inside the house and a shirt wasn't exactly part of my regular pajamas.

"Oh, that's not a problem. At all. You don't mind, I don't mind and I'm pretty sure Kurt doesn't mind either." The black woman said, extending the vocal on the «pretty» and on Kurt's name.

Kurt.

The boy I thought about before falling asleep, and probably part of the dream I couldn't place right away, was standing there, looking everywhere but the place I was sitting; an uncomfortable expression on his face. I frowned. Was I that disgusting?

I had been told of been a dapper, prep school young boy who was appealing. Someone who could get the boy he wanted if I tried hard enough, and that every girl would be on my hand with just a look, but of course, every time a girl gave me her number or flirted deliberately with me, I had to explain that their team wasn't the one I played for.

"Blaine, are you listening?" Rachel said, taking me out of my mind. I nodded, but her glance told me I was supposed to do something else.

We stare at each other for a couple of seconds before she snapped "Go put some clothes on!" was yelled in my face.

I took the blanket I covered myself with in the couch (which I kicked off in the middle of my sleep) while I stood up and hurried to my room. If he didn't want to see me, I would please his wish.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, it drawn on me that I had the clothes from last night somewhere in the living room. I face palmed myself before taking a towel and crossing the hall to the bathroom.

When I finished my shower and open the door of the bathroom there would be a top five things of what I would expect on the other side: An alternative universe where police officers, with guns raised and pointing my chest with red lights, called my name out loud, proceeding to arrest me and sent me straight to court, just dressed in a towel, for a sequel of horrid crimes that not me but my third personality (named Carlos) had committed.

My parents, coming back from the trip earlier and talking to me about the realization that they had never –and hopefully never will have- had "the talk" with me. And Michael would take a plastic penis from his pocket as Hiram took condom and a lube from the inside of his jacket. I would have every single detail about preparation, the location of the prostate, and a search of a new boyfriend for put in practice my new knowledge.

Disneyland.

A new dog! Whose name would be a total mystery, because I sucked at names, and the poor creature would have to go to therapy because an excess of name-changing in less than a week.

Rachel, dressed with one of those colonial dresses and a wig from our performance in Maria Antoinette, her face totally paint in white and her lips red as cherries as she told me my hatter had asked me to go downstairs for tea.

But I did not except seeing the boy who was getting under my skin. Kurt moved his eyes to the ceiling, avoiding me and my body, completely; I would be rushing again to let him away from my ugliness, but then I saw it. His cheeks were tainted with a pink flush of embarrassment, it looked practically as if it was the first time he saw other guy apart from himself almost naked. It couldn't be, right? It didn't seem even _possible_.

"Kurt, you are blushing" the phrase slipped my lips before I could give it a second thought. And, damn, that sounded like _flirting_.

"Yeah, well- you- you are-err-" the pink on his cheeks turned red, his eyes still avoiding me. I passed him in order to enter my room, letting the door slightly open.

I had just put on my boxers (towel still wrapped around my waist) when Kurt closed it behind him.

"What can I help you with, sir?" I opened my drawers, taking as much clothes as possible, looking for something fashionable and, at the same time, comfortable to wear inside the house. It wasn't like I was going somewhere, anyway. "Isn't my sister that appealing as a friend since our escape from last night?"

And we both fell into an awkward silence. I cursed myself internally, feeling the tension almost palpable in the air.

Someday, a voice whispered inside my head, I was going to buy a filter.

I couldn't help but raising my head from the clothes spread all over my bed, just to find Kurt's eyes fixed on me. I gulped loudly.

"That was- fun, actually" his voice was so soft I almost missed he talked. "I came here to tell you Rachel said breakfast is ready and that she needs to talk to you, and I quote, extremely urgently"

"Did she say what for?" I asked absently while pulling on a with V neck shirt, a simple black jeans would go perfectly with it and I could use flip flops if everybody else in the house, except for Rachel, weren't a few inches taller than me.

Maybe he shook his head no, but I couldn't see it. My back was in his direction as the towel slid off my body, just the boxers covering my half-down body. I was used to it by now, to people, boys, been there while I was in underwear and talking to me as I changed clothes.

This, in some random way, felt totally different.

I could hear Kurt's heavy breathing on my side of the room, and the sole idea of him been there, dead silent and possibly staring at me made my heart race. The mystery of his train of thought was enough to catch my breath in my throat.

"Iwillseeyoudownstairs" he said as I spun around, zipper up and jeans buttoned. The door was left open in the rush.

Was he really that uncomfortable around me?

"He wasn't last night" I whispered to myself; the empty room being the only witness of my testimony.

When I was downstairs, prepare to head directly to the kitchen, the other three individuals that were in the house caught my sight. Mercedes, Rachel and Kurt were sitting on the couch, the coffee table in front of them full with cups, plates, cookies, yogurt and a kettle that exuded the distinct scent of coffee.

As I sit down next to my sister neither of them appeared to notice my entrance, and I soon as I glanced to Dream Girls on TV I completely understood. Taking a cup of coffee I let myself fell into the magic of the songs and the story that I knew by heart since I was twelve years old.

Once the movie ended I didn't expect for Rachel to tell me the thing she did.

"I'm going to make another party in the house" there was no place to discussion in her tone, so, there was none on mine either.

"Alright. I get to get in and drink"

If I had unstuck my eyes from the television I might have seen Kurt's smile and Mercedes knowing smirk.


End file.
